


Bad Decisions

by Labeteenmoi



Category: Legend (2015)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Character Death, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labeteenmoi/pseuds/Labeteenmoi
Summary: Juliet has fled a marriage where she was abused. The thing is, she loved it and she knows that it's insane to love things like that.So she thinks she's safe now, far away from her husband.And then enter the Kray twins in her life and maybe, just maybe, she was better off before.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> I've recently fallen really hard for Tom Hardy. Hard like I would marry him and give him children in the minute would he just mumble to me. And I hate all kinds of engagement, that's just to say.
> 
> So I watched Legend where he plays these two brothers and my God, that Reggie Kray almost gave me religion just for the pleasure of sinning.
> 
> So, here is a side story fanfiction about him and the kind of things he inspires me. It has already 5 parts but is still ongoing at the time, for at least one last part I think.
> 
> As said before, I'm french so English is not my mother tongue, please be clement regarding any formulation that would be incorrect. Don't hasitate in poiting it out to me though, I love learning from my mistakes.
> 
> I hope you enjoy your reading and all comments are very welcome.

 

She should not have looked at it, but she had never seen anyone get shot, let alone in the head.

When she had heard the door burst open, her intuition had told her that something was going to happen. Because nothing ever happened in this pub and guests usually made more noise when going out drunk than when entering. So she had leaned over her head from the chairs on which she was taking her break, and she saw him, that imposing man in his three-piece suit, with a crazy look behind his large glasses, with fingers loaded with gold rings and with gominated brown hair, plated back.

He had pointed his gun directly to the other man’s face as he approached, then fired. Even if she had wanted to avoid it, she had already seen too much: the man and the weapon. Even if she had turned her eyes earlier, she had heard too much: the shot and the name, Ronnie Kray.

At her boss’s panicked attitude, she realized that this man was bad news.

So when she saw several men coming to the pub again to intimidate the annoying witnesses, well before someone decided to tell the police, she took the opportunity to discreetly hit the road and never go back.

The advantage of being relatively new to the neighborhood was that no one really knew her, and she had not worked there long enough to be thought of as a witness, at least that was what she hoped for.

But when, one evening when she got home from her new job in another pub, she saw a man in an elegant dark suit leaning against the red brick wall of the house where she was staying, her blood ran cold. The hope of having gone unnoticed vanished as quickly as emerged the certainty of having entered into a crushing knot.

Lowering her head, she continued on her way, as if the path she was taking was really hers, but she did not really know where to go. Turning around the corner, out of sight of the man in the suit, she had accelerated the pace. Crossing several passers-by, she did not realize that he had followed her until he had reached her.

“Hi there” he had said, a cigarette between his lips, clinging to her back before grabbing her arm and pulling her down the dark alley that separated two houses.

Taken by surprise, she had opposed no resistance, and found herself pressed against the wall. In front of a stranger whose only profile was dimly lit by the lights coming from the main street, she took a few seconds to recover.

“What’s wrong with you ?!” she protested in the face of the man standing right in front of her, one hand in one pocket of his pants, the other nonchalantly carrying his cigarette to his mouth.

Seeing his face, her heart missed a beat and a cold sweat grabbed her neck. He looked almost exactly like Ronnie Kray, but it was not him. He did not wear glasses and his hair was styled differently, but most importantly, his eyes were not crazy but charming. _Damn, he’s hot…_ she thought. He emanated self confidence and charisma, which disturbed her immediately, more than she let it appear, trying to figure a way out of this situation.

The whole point at that moment was to make him believe that she was not the person he was looking for, but the task seemed difficult; he did not seem to be of the credulous kind.

“As if you don’t know what this is about, honey?” he said, looking down at her and blowing his smoke at the corner of his lips, parted in a slight smirk.  
  
She took an outraged look with frowned brows “Excuse me, sir, I don’t know who you think I am but you must mistake me for someone else ! ” she replied, parting from the wall and trying to walk out of the alley, hoping he would swallow her vexed reaction.  
  
But he didn’t. The man stretched an arm to the wall at the moment she tried to pass him by, blocking her way out so suddenly that her chest bumped against it.  
He tilted his head to the side, looking at her with an amused face while she awkwardly stood there, not daring to move again.  
  
“My husband must be worried now, it’s getting late…” she resumed, trying to hold his gaze, while she was the one getting really uncomfortable by the proximity of the man.  
  
“Is that so?” he retorted in a breath, throwing his cigarette on the ground. He leaned a little more over her, bringing his face closer to hers.  
“Well, you can tell him that Reggie Kray wants to talk to him.”  
  
Trying to recoil her face, her head almost hit the wall. He wouldn’t let her put space between them; she could feel his breath on her face. For a little instant she looked at his well defined jaw and smooth looking cheeks with full lips and forgot what she was supposed to say, troubled by his attitude, unsure if he was threatening or seducing her. She barely realized that he and the crazy looking murderer had the same name.  
  
“About what?” she finally said, trying to restrain the heat she felt was rising to her cheeks.  
  
“About what his wife shouldn’t have seen and who she shouldn’t talk to about it…” he replied, his tone heavy with innuendo, “and how she behaves with strangers in the streets…”  
  
She first thought _I’m fucked_ , but then, at his last words, she ended up with a perplexed look on her face.  
“What?! You… What are you implying, sir?” she stuttered, outraged.  
  
“I’m not implying, I’m saying I wouldn’t like my wife to flirt with other men the way you do” he said, with a falsely innocent look on his face, visibly amused by her reaction.  
  
Her mouth opened in astonishment before she could find anything to say.  
“Oh you… You’ve got some nerve Mr. Kray! I’m not the one who grabbed you and pinned you to a wall!” She retorted angrily.  
  
The man slowly got closer to her, bending his arm above her head and leaning against the wall. She found herself stuck to the wall again. He wouldn’t stop glancing at her from head to toe, his large chest now almost flicking her breasts and his mouth dangerously close to hers. She held her breath as her heart raced but could not restrain from flushing this time.  
  
“I haven’t seen much resistance from you though…” he teased her, slowly licking his lips.  
  
“It’s just… I don’t want to touch you…” she muttered in a breath, lowering her head, trying to avoid the intense look of the man and cursing herself for being so weak-willed in front of him. Why did he have to be so handsome?  
  
“I’m not like the easy women you seem used to patronize…” she added, lying to him and mostly to herself. He was exactly the type of men that had made her take bad decisions all her life.  
  
“Really?” he retorted, his smile widening. Kray could feel she would be his with a snap of his fingers.

“Is everything okay, Madam?” suddenly interrupted a man’s voice. “Is this man annoying you?”  
  
Reggie Kray recoiled to see a police officer standing a few steps from them at the entry of the alley, his hands on his belt.  
  
“The lady wasn’t feeling good officer” he replied with the confidence he never seemed to lack of. “She had…trouble breathing. But she’s feeling better now.” he added, looking back at her with a piercing gaze where she could finally perceive the dangerousness lying beneath the good looks.  
  
“Is that right, Madam?” insisted the policeman, approaching and purposely turning to her, making Kray understand she was the one he was addressing to.  
  
She strongly hoped the red on her face would have faded a little before she looked up. Her eyes successively met the officer’s eyes and then Reggie’s.  
  
“Yes… I’m better now, officer…” she eventually said in a less confident voice she would have liked. “Hum… Thank you, sir” she added addressing to Reggie who put on a satisfied smirk.  
  
“All right then… You can go now.” concluded the policeman, looking at Kray with insistence and suspicion.  
  
“Sure, I’ve done my part here officer, I’ll leave Ms. Porter In your hands.” he said, with a last glance at her, and an expression of defiance on his face, making her understand that he knew more about her than she thought and that she better not do or say anything stupid, in case it wasn’t already clear.  
  
After he left, passing by the officer with his hands in his pockets, rolling his shoulders like he owned the place, she finally allowed herself to breathe.  
  
For the next days, she would always take different ways and different hours to go home. Watching her back and carefully approaching her house, she was always expecting to see that tall and broad silhouette next to her door. To her own discontent, she would not have known if she would be frightened or excited to see this happen.


	2. part 2

 

“Mrs. Porter, do you recognize the man who shot?”

Juliet stared at the men lined up in front of her. Trying to hide her nervousness behind controlled breaths, she successively put her eyes on each one of them. Her strategy almost faltered when she met Ronald Kray’s hallucinatory gaze. A mixture of suspicion and misunderstanding hung in his eyes, and an ounce of threat could be in the way he had to roll up his nose.

Forcing herself to exhale normally, she went on to the next, looking like nothing happened.

“I have never seen these men, officer.” she finally said to the agent near her.

With a quick glance she saw Ron’s expression relax, but his gaze remained unchanged.

“Are you sure, Madam?” the policeman insisted.

“I’m sorry, as I told you before; I was taking my break when it happened … I was not in the room.”

She finally allowed herself to breathe on the way home, releasing the tension that had accumulated in her shoulders and chest. She could not, however, relax completely; _you know it’s not over_ , pounding a small voice in her head.

Juliet hated to always be right when the next day a car slowed down beside her on the road to her home.  
A big black sedan purred for a few moments, continuing to move at the same pace as her steps until she stopped moving forward and turned to the window at her height.

It lowered slowly, revealing Reginald Kray’s face, which tilted his head with a smile from the backseat.

“Good evening, Mrs. Porter,” he said with an angelic air.

_Shit_ , she thought, feeling the nervousness invade her again.

“Get on, I’ll drop you off,” he added.

“No thanks, it’ll be fine,” she answered hastily, looking at him apprehensively.

“Mm … I’m sorry, did that sound like a request?” he retorted slowly, narrowing his eyes, a slight smile on his lips before closing the window.

_Shit, shit, shit_ … she curses inside again. She was beginning to have trouble breathing at the prospect of being locked in a confined space with this man. A mixture of fear and haste was twisting her belly as she opened the door, while Reggie slipped to the middle of the bench in his impeccable dark suit.

As she sat down she saw his gaze lingering on her legs that protruded from her skirt and could not hold back a sound swallowing, trying to occupy as little space as possible on the small end of bench that Reggie left her.

He stretched an arm on the back of the bench, leaning towards her, visibly reveling in her discomfort.

Driven against the door, Juliet, crossing her arms under her bosom, tried to avoid his gaze as she watched the driver and then looked down the street slowly through the window, before breaking the silence, saying in one breath “I said nothing…”

“I know, darling,” he cut in a whisper.

She finally turned her face to him; a slight jolt raised her chest realizing the proximity of his face.

“What do you want from me then?” she said plaintively.

“I wanted to thank you, Juliet, that’s the least I can do, right?”

Her legs tightened in an unexpected spasm at the sight of his eyes and his half-opened lips, almost stretched towards her face.

“Okay … but no need …” she answered slowly before being interrupted.

“My brother was very impressed, he said that you were a very good … liar, have you ever lied to me?” he resumed with a mischievous look.

“No …” she whispered slowly, a slight cold chill of panic rising in her neck.

An equivocal pout appeared on his face. “You cannot stop yourself, can you?” he chuckled with disdain. “You have guts, I grant you that, if I did not already know that you had left your husband down, I would surely have believed you …”

At his words, Reggie brought his free hand close and put it firmly on Juliet’s knee.  
She jumped at the touch, staring at the broad hand whose fingers tightened the inside of her leg.

Her breathing quickened as the hand gently moved up her leg, tight enough to take the fabric of her skirt with it.

“Does your husband know what you’re doing away from him?” He whispered suggestively, moving closer to her ear.

“It’s not your business …” she said distractedly with a slight gasp in spite of herself, not being able to take her eyes off the still-rising hand.

Reggie reached her thigh and tightened his hold on the softer flesh, causing a jerky, almost sonic breath.

When he raised his thumb and touched her crotch that shuddered on contact, she contracted and tightened her legs while holding her breath.  
He did not leave her eyes, delighted by the contradictory emotions that appeared on her face as he caressed her sex. The fabric was thin enough to let him guess the curve of her labia. He pushed his thumb up the crack that separated them and clearly felt the shudder that shook her back.

“Stop … Please …” she stammered almost inaudibly, her supplicating eyes going back to his. Her cheeks had turned scarlet and her breathing quickened.

“Oh … you’re even lying to yourself … it’s stronger than you, isn’t darling?” He blew into her face.  
His hot breath was accompanied by a sudden pressure of his thumb on the top of her pussy, compressing the already inflated button of her clit under her panties.

She let out a short moan that she tried to restrain by biting her lip. Her face lifted uncontrollably and her lips brushed Reggie’s, still stretched in a tormenting smile.

Her hands clenched on her arms as she felt the thumb that tormented her still squeeze in a slight circular motion on the sore spot between her legs, but her breath was cut off when Reggie’s tongue gently inserted in her mouth, gently licking the space that separated her lips.

She dared not move, uncertain whether her next move would be to repel him, what her brains were constantly suggesting to her, or to seize his neck to suck his fleshy lips, which her body begged with all its fibers.

“Ask me to stop again …” he murmured, provocatively.

_That’s…twisted_ , she thought suddenly. That this man could be exhilarated by her resistance to succumbing to him triggered all sorts of alarms in her brain. He was dangerous, and, against all odds, this thought excited her all the more.

_Damn … I need to get out of here_ , she ordered to herself. She had already lived that, she knew all too well the torments that were announced if she gave in to her urges.  
“Let me go,” she suddenly demanded in a hard voice, pulling back her face and burying her back in the seat.

An ounce of surprise crossed his eyes. His thumb stopped moving, releasing pressure on her pussy.

Then he smiled again, somewhat resignedly but who did not admit totally defeated.  
Reggie removed his arms from the bench behind her and from her crotch. Backing away from his seat, he took a box from the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a cigarette before lighting it. He sucked a long puff and then blew smoke in front of him before resting his eyes on her.

He looked relaxed, but she could tell by the thrill of his nostrils and his tense jaw that he was furious. She could almost feel his resentment as a sticky substance in the cabin of the car, which suddenly seemed even less spacious than before.

“You have arrived, Mrs. Porter, take care of yourself,” he said in an exhale, with a polite air.

She looked out the window and saw her door just ahead. Without waiting she opened the door and closed it behind her as soon as she could stand without turning around.

Taking great breaths, she waited for the car to move away, but it did not happen right away.

She heard the glass bend down again and turned to see Reggie Kray’s eyes through the opening. He winked at her without a word before nodding to the driver who restarted the car. As the vehicle moved away, they did not leave each other’s eyes.

_This man will be the end of you._ That was the only point her brains and her body seemed to agree on.


	3. part 3

 

She was waiting for him.  
She was working, shopping, and supporting herself, thinking that she wanted that, that it was what she had to do, what she needed; a dreary routine. But it was only vain attempts to convince herself. Deep down she knew she was waiting for him, she was hoping for the next time he would burst into her life again, shaking up her certainties and resolutions of a normal life, free of toxic relationships.

Between the daydreaming and the fantasies that populated her evenings and nights, it was only when the doorbell rang one evening and that she surprised her heart racing at the thought that it could be him, that it reluctantly became obvious in her head; she was waiting for him.

After a few seconds of hesitation, she went to her entrance. Reflecting at full speed on the attitude she had to adopt, she dusted her dress awkwardly, smoothing the folds by pulling it down on her thighs, made slippery by her pantyhose.

_Don’t open_ , said the voice of reason, the one she never listened to when the adrenaline flooded her brain and the excitement made her heart beat harder in her chest.

There he is, his head bent to the side as she opens the door, his large figure cut out from the shadows of the street, a charming smile on his lips and a hint of mischief in his eyes; Reginald Kray.

“Good evening Juliet,” he said, smiling. “I know it’s already late but I wanted to invite you to dinner.”

A flash of heat suddenly rose in her. She almost pinched herself to be sure she was not imagining this scenario, it was worthy of those she played at night, in bed.

Mouth opened like a fish out of the water; the words took a while to form.

“Sorry?” she finally answered, her expression oscillating between surprise and outrage in the opening of the door she was holding by the handle.

“It’s to be forgiven. My behavior in the car last time was … indecent and inappropriate.”  He added with a smile tinged with embarrassment.  
But his eyes expressed no shame, no guilt.

_He plays with you._  
Despite herself, a slight smile lifted the corners of her lips.

“It’s … the least we can say Mr. Kray,” she said in a small voice.

“It’s a yes?” He insisted, leaning his head forward again with a raised eyebrow that gave his face an air of innocence.

_Don’t do that._  
With a slight waving of the head Juliet chased the little voice.

“Okay,” she replied.

As if to prove his sincerity, Reggie took her on foot through the illuminated streets of London to an Italian restaurant that had just opened in the Shoreditch district, about ten blocks away.

A car was following them, the famous dark sedan purring a few meters behind them, trying to adjust to their pace without exceeding them. They walked in silence, Juliet made dumb by the nervousness that invaded her as every time she was in his presence. He was content to give her charming looks under his close eyebrows, in a pout that exuded self-confidence and power.

These streets belonged to him; it is the impression he gave her; the streets and everything that lived there. His hands in the pockets of his black suit trousers, his jacket held up by his arms, he literally owned the space around him. She was standing beside him, trying to follow his steps by slamming her heels on the pavement. At his side she felt like a little thing, his little thing, trying in vain to exist but whose own short breaths did not belong to her.

Reggie held the door of the establishment to bring her in. An air of mandolin rose, it was soft but still managed to cover the voices of the many customers she saw from the entrance. The dim light and the candles on the tables unambiguously invited to intimacy between the seated couples. In the hot, thick air of the restaurant were smells of wax, tobacco and roasted shellfish.

The dimness of the place seemed to fade even more as Reggie entered, as if he were sucking the light around him. All eyes were on him, men, women and staff. He seemed to meet only people he knew, greeting them with a warm but distant look, without even bothering to introduce her as their questioning eyes landed on her. With a simple wink of the eyes he managed to intimidate them not to ask questions. He radiated even more charisma and assurance in the presence of others, rolling his shoulders between the astonished people who seemed to rush to greet him in person.

She watched the events with amazement and wonder. He caused this effect on everyone then. A sort of shameful pride sprouted in her, and the little voice gave a heartfelt pleasure in lecturing her about it. _You’re screwed if you fall under his spell._ How not to fall?

A waiter in white suit and black bow tie greeted them and took her coat. He placed them at a small round table by multiplying the bows. The plates were placed side by side so that their knees touched each other once seated. As she tightened her legs briskly to break the contact, Reggie stared at her with an amused glow in his eyes.

“Are you all right, Juliet?” He asked, pretending not to catch her discomfort.

“Yes … I … I was not expecting this kind of place …” she hesitated in a weak voice.

“What are you talking about?” He continued to taunt her.

“Well, it’s … romantic?” She replied with a hint of irony.

“You don’t like it?” His face barely betrayed the pleasure he was taking in putting her uncomfortable behind his sulky smile.

_And there he is, making fun of you again_. This time the warnings hit home. His attitude became openly provocative, warming her mind a little.

“You should bring your wife here, rather than a stranger.” She suddenly gave a loud voice, brazenly planting her eyes in his.

The corners of his lips narrowed slightly without making his smile disappear, but his eyes hardened and his nostrils quivered almost imperceptibly. Juliet felt a sudden tension emanate from him as he leaned over her face, her ears almost whistling under the effect of the sudden density of the atmosphere around her.

“Let’s make a deal, Darling : you’re not talking about mine, and I’m not going to talk about yours, Mm?” He said to her ear through his outstretched jaw.

The tone was meant to be diplomatic but she perceived the underlying threat, revealing again the latent danger lying beneath his apparent relaxation. Ignoring all the alarms that tinkled in her brain, her lower abdomen contracted in a twist that was not painful, on the contrary.

“Champagne, Madam?” Suddenly interrupted a waiter, presenting a tray in front of her on which rested two round cups filled with fine blonde bubbles rising in tight lines along the glass.

The tension subsided as Reggie resumed his initial posture on his chair, his broad shoulders back, smoothing his red tie on his immaculate white shirt before lighting a cigarette. She accepted the server’s proposal with a nod.

_You should leave while there is still time._

With a wave of her hand she chased again the wise advice that was emerging in her brain, just wishing not to liquefy herself in her chair and focusing on controlling her breathing, as she hoped, would not reveal her relief nor her excitement.

Reggie took the order for her, without bothering to ask her opinion. He gave her an almost complicit smile once the order was sent. She stared at him in awe at so little consideration. _This is the kind of man that is Reggie Kray, I do not see what surprises you…_

“How’s your brother?” She said lightly, bringing the cup to her lips, trying to deflect her own attention.

“As good as a free man can be.” He retorted, blowing the smoke from the corner of his mouth with a small equivocal grin. “He asked me about you by the way.”

Juliet swallowed a sip through her tight throat. Revisiting Ronald Kray’s worrisome look as he stood in front of her at the police station, she thought it must not be such a good thing that he mentioned her again, almost two weeks after their official meeting with the authorities.

“He found you very … interesting, which in his mouth means he’s not finished with you.” He said, taking a sip of champagne, browsing the room with his eyes.  
Juliet could no longer detach the cup from her lips, sucking sips absently, taking care not to meet his eyes as the air thickened around them again.

“Mm… It’s funny how we look alike sometimes, Ron and I, I really want to know what’s going on under that pretty skin too.” Reggie rekindled, giving her a side glance that was no longer candid.

_He surrounded you. You’re screwed._  
Juliet hissed the rest of the cup in one tread this time, taking a deep breath.

Pretending to have heard nothing, she grabbed the towel on the table and wiped the corners of her mouth eagerly, before pretending to move her chair back.

“I have to, uh, I’m going …” she stammered, feeling her complexion turn rosy.

Reggie interrupted her by putting a hand on the top of her back. She froze immediately to the touch, perceiving through the fabric of her dress the warmth of the hand that slid beyond the collar, to the bare skin of her neck, which he wrapped with his palm. At first she held her breath, which she could not hold back when, in slow movements, he stroked the sides of her neck with his fingertips, provoking a discharge of chills that ran down her skin to her arms, whose fine hairs erupted under the effect of goose bumps.

It seemed to her that one or two degrees had been added to the temperature of the place, already at the limit of the bearable.

“When you’re at the ladies’ room, take it off, for me.” He whispered, leaning back to her face, slightly accentuating the pressure of his fingers on her neck.

Juliet frowned in incomprehension, but already her heart was starting to race.

He nibbled on his lower lip slowly before continuing with a small smile. “Your panties.” He breathed.

Juliet could not hold back a gasp as her face blushed frankly, her eyes locked in Reggie’s for a moment that seemed to stretch indefinitely. These clear irises seemed to read in her beyond all the appearances she would have wanted to save, to guess the amorality of her thoughts.

No doubt satisfied by the multitude of shades of pink that ran on the face of Juliet, with each expression of trouble, he slowly released his grip. Caressing the nape of her neck as he pulled out his hand, moistened by prolonged contact with her now hot skin, Reggie straightened his head as if to let her get up. Without thinking, she obeyed his silent order.

On the short distance to the toilet, the words _you knew that would happen_ would make a deafening noise in her head.

“And shit!” she swore loudly once out of sight behind the ladies’ corner door.

This incessant internal struggle between what she had to be and what she really wanted was taking up more space, making more and more noise inside her. It was so bad, and yet so good that she shuddered in advance to see herself possessed by this man who would make a mouthful of her weak resistance.

_The last time you gave in, you married the bastard._  
“Fuck!” She snarled again, leaning over the sink in front of the large mirror that adorned the wall in front of her.

It should not have happened, she would have to be able to live without this visceral need to be dominated and controlled. That’s why she had fled this marriage that had filled all her unhealthy desires, beyond her expectations, and her survival instinct had had so much trouble getting her out before any notion of self-esteem vanished forever. She had left everything behind to start all over again, with the hope, no doubt naive, that she would meet a man who does not feel the need to manipulate her and subject her to his grip. But it seemed that in every place there was a Steven Porter, or a Reginald Kray, who crossed her path and drew her like a magnet.

_The problem is you, not them. Leave._  
How could she still hesitate to leave this restaurant exceeded her own understanding. To believe that there was another woman in her, another being who reveled in the humiliation she inflicted on herself, like a demon whispering in her ear that she loved it, _why fight?_

At that moment, he told her that she wanted to, remove her panties and give it to Reggie, as he had asked, probably to gauge her docility. “Take it off.” Those words still rang in her ears, twisting her belly again, warming her chest and face.

Hands clenched on the edge of the sink’s white porcelain, her pelvis began to wave under the pressure that her thighs exerted against each other, accentuating the friction of the fabric of her panties against her crotch that began to titillate her, as she glanced away from her own reflection in the mirror.

_Go … He’s going to be so mad…_  
She emerged from her excitement at this thought. Suddenly looking up at her reflection; she thought for a moment that it was smiling at her. It should not be what would push her to the door; it was the wrong reason, another bad decision. However, she felt a discharge of exaltation swell in her chest, a feverish euphoria that dilated to her pupils by imagining him, mad with anger, make her pay for her insult.

“Damn demon …” she whispered to herself, looking falsely resigned.

She walked the few meters that separated her from the exit in a kind of second state, her mind shared between fear and excitement. One last glance at her table, she saw Reggie’s back, he was smoking a new cigarette, his arm nonchalantly resting on the back of her empty chair he was contemplating. His irresistible profile gave a glimpse of a half-smile of his full lips, probably in anticipation of the good times that the evening announced to him.  
Juliet jubilated at this thought before disappearing into the streets of London, without even claiming her cloak.

 

* * *

 

The bell rang.

Reggie must have realized that she would not come back and rushed home to punish her. Her breathing was already out of control as she imagined the scene.

She had waited on her couch, in the dark, thinking that she had done wrong and then all the opposite. While the battle was raging in her head, she sometimes stood up, anxiously paced in her living room, and then returned to sit without managing to calm her nerves or to establish a truce in her brain.

But he was there, and the silence finally came.

Holding her breath, she got up and walked to the door without turning on any light. Her mouth was dry; she turned the lock, then grabbed the handle and turned it with involuntary slowness, as if guided in spite of herself.

She pulled the door toward her, looked up and swallowed loudly.

“Good evening darling. I missed you, "said the man in a deep voice.

She could not see his face, but she recognized his voice, she even heard the smile that was not friendly at all. And it was not Reginald Kray.

”… Steven …“


	4. part 4

 

It was like a game  
To the one who pushes the other one to the end, and Steven wins most of the time.

He knew her well; he knew how to keep her on the wire, the limit that separates fear and satisfaction. This demarcation was very slim for Juliet. He tilted her to one side then to the other, constantly threatening her, and then reassuring her, telling her that she had always been a degenerate and that he was the only one who could understand her. And she had believed him until the day he wanted to share her. The humiliation was too great. Driven by anger, she finally found the courage to leave.

He had always had an ascendancy over her though. He too was very attractive, tall with a broad chest, light hair and a laughing and reassuring face. Nobody could have imagined what a manipulative monster was burying under his apparent sympathy. Like Reggie Kray.

So when she saw her husband in front of her door, it seemed to her that all her blood had frozen in her veins.  
  
_How did he find me?_

* * *

 

The sound of the doorbell pulled her out of her torpor.

Confused thoughts began to cross her brain and emotions overwhelmed her body as she realized that it could not be Steven, he had taken the key with him before going out. _And if it was him?_

It rang again.

Juliet took a deep breath and stood up. Smoothing her hair with trembling hands, she avoided crossing her reflection in the mirror adorning the wall of the entrance. She already knew what she looked like after a night like this, she had seen the bruises on her arms, and the pain on her cheekbone indicated that it was probably more reddish than her natural complexion

She unlocked the latch and opened the door, revealing only one side of her face, the good one.

With raised eyebrows and lowered face, her visitor raised a mischievous smile towards her, which faded away as he noticed the fleeting glance that greeted him. His eyebrows then frowned in a questioning pout.

“What’s going on, Juliet?” asked Reggie Kray.

Juliet’s more and more sonorous breaths as she stared at the floor were her only answer.

He reached out an arm and pushed the door slightly away, revealing her swollen face entirely.  
From interrogative, his expression became inquisitive. He advanced, imposing his broad shoulders into the door frame, and lifted her face with one hand under her chin.

“Who did this to you?” He asked sternly at the shameless face of Juliet.  
  
Part of her wanted to believe that the tension she felt thickening was not addressed to her, but a menacing gleam in his eyes raised some doubts.

“Who ?” He repeated in a deep voice, tightening his fingers on her chin, summoning her to answer.  
  
“My husband, he found me …” she murmured, fearing that saying it too loudly unleashed his anger. “I don’t know how…”

“Where is he ?” he interrupted coldly.  
  
Juliet scanned his eyes before answering; trying to figure out what he was going to do with this information. His eyes were narrowed and fixed, and his eyebrows contracted, forming a crease above his nose. His breathing was calm and controlled, but the control he exerted over his body somehow made her think of the calm before the storm. Steven was going to spend a hard time.

“At the pub, the Elliot’s, why?” She said finally, without taking her eyes off him.  
  
His fingers relaxed on her face as well as his eyes, and a soft smile stretched his lips, although the rest of his body still seemed tense.

“I’m just going to talk to him, Juliet,” he said softly, stroking her neck with his fingertips. “You stay here.” He finished a little more firmly.

 

* * *

 

He did not bother to ring this time and drummed violently against the door. Hardly had she unlocked the latch that he burst open.

Just avoiding the door, she pulled back quickly and looked at him, dumbfounded.  
Streaks of his gummed hair, usually perfectly coiffed backwards, fell on his forehead. The knuckles of his fists were bloody and his white shirt studded with blood.

“My God … what happened?” She asked in a breath under her hands, her eyes panicked.

He walked towards her, slamming the door behind him, anger distorting the pretty features of his face, usually so smooth.

“He fucked you?” he asked in a harsh voice.  
  
Juliet froze, incredulous.  
“What?”  
  
“Did he fuck you?” He repeated, raising his voice.

“But … it’s my husband …” she stammered. Of course he had fucked her, and hit her too, much more brutally than before. It was her punishment and she deserved it.

She had thought of Reggie when Steven took her, and she liked that. Steven had probably not hesitated to mention it to taunt Reggie during their _conversation_.

Reggie closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Confirming her fears, when he reopened them, his eyes were even darker than before. His jaw tightened conspicuously as he continued to move on her, his shoulders hunched and his arms spread. He looked like a bull about to charge, his eyes fierce and his lips rolled up.

Juliet tried to retreat when he approached, but her knees refused to obey. He was so scary, like a wave threatening to burst on her.

He grabbed her by the arms, painfully squeezing her shoulders, and pulled her back in spite of herself. He smelled of sweat and rage, his gaze was tetanizing, she was nothing but a doll of rags in his hands.

“He’s nothing for you anymore.” He said in an almost white voice, stabbing each word.

Something terrible had happened, and it was coming too, something terrible and immoral, she could feel it in the air, in the almost animal smell that Reggie emanated.

While the most perverted part of her exulted, Juliet did not realize that she had stopped breathing.  
  
“You’re mine, you hear me? I don’t share my property!” he spat, shaking her roughly.

He pushed her away, and she hit the dining table behind her.

The gesture was too fast, she did not see Reggie’s hand arrive before it hit her cheek hard. The contact was scathing, her skin flared and her head was thrown to the side.

“No one else will fuck you anymore.” he said with clenched teeth, turning her over. With his whole body, he pressed her against the table and forced her to extend her bust on it. Her face was almost crushed against the hard wood of the furniture, regardless of the blows already received. Her hands next to her head tried to push her body upward but, with one hand on the back of her neck Reggie held her firmly, his fingers tightening her neck hard.

He breathed loudly, louder and louder as his rage became excitement, or the two had always been mingled with him. She felt the pressure of his pelvis against her buttocks. He barely moved away from it to lift the bottom of the dress she was wearing with his free hand, in sudden gestures. He pulled her panties unceremoniously, the elastics printing on the skin of her thighs as he descended, emitting low grunts of satisfaction to see her exposed.

Small metallic tingling told her that he was undoing his belt. She closed her eyes, not daring to say a word, still sounded by the slap Reggie had given her. Her brain seemed overwhelmed by the situation, making her unable to make a decision. Should she scream, fight? Was it going to make him even more furious or curb him?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Reggie’s bust fell heavily on her back.  
“That’s what you wanted from the beginning, huh?” he hissed near her face. “I know so … Say it. Say it and I’ll be nicer.”

Juliet did not detect any intention of sweetness in his voice but she wanted to try it. However, all her body was boiling from the inside, feeling rubbing against her cunt his erected and hard shaft, and the damn demon who whispered from inside her head: _you don’t want it nice, you want it exactly like that_. The inherent battle raging again in her head, her mouth emitted a sound, a hoarse and uncontrolled moaning that escaped from her.

“That’s what I thought, honey.” He snarled, straightening himself up.

His words barely out of his mouth, Reggie grabbed his cock and thrust it into her, striking her buttocks in a snap, the shock squeaked the wooden feet of the table. A scream strangled in Juliet’s throat as all the muscles in her body contracted, shaking her outstretched legs. She felt him withdraw and force again inside her entry, just as hard, with a hoarse groan, his hand tightening around her neck and the other gripping and squeezing between his fingers the soft flesh of her ass.

“You like it when it’s hard, right? You got that slutty thing in your eyes, you begged me for this” he whispered in a sulphurous tone.

A simple pinch between her legs became a burning sensation as Reggie swept the delicate flesh of her inside, already abused by her husband during a good part of the night. He was hitting her from behind, slamming his pelvis against her. Her breath was short and her throat began to produce uncontrolled complaints that added to Reggie’s rumblings.

He released the hold on her neck and grabbed her hair. She gave a cry of surprise as he pulled her head back, forcing her to lift her chest off the table, lifting up one of her legs and resting her knee on the rickety table. He squeezed the top of her thigh tightly, pressing his fingers into the flesh.

Thus spread out, a wave of shame and heat overwhelmed her body. She was boiling and sweating, her hands slipping on the wood covered by the dampness that her body produced.  
  
Reggie pounded her harder, his groans getting closer and louder. His thrusts increased in power, thrilling the envelope of her whole body.

Juliet could no longer restrain her moans, interrupted by the thrusts that hammered her without interruption, her hands clutching frantically Reggie’s wrist holding her hair.  
  
His body suddenly tense against her, he belched, “Fuck…yeah…” His hands clutched at her hips, holding her pelvis as he pounded her in short and hard jerks while cumming.

He quickly withdrew, getting dressed while catching his breath. Watching Juliet do the same, her back turned, he stepped on her, clutching his chest against her back, looking at her face over her shoulder.

“You forgot your coat yesterday.” He said with a smile.

The face still flushed, Juliet looked up at him. He had put his hair back in place and his face and voice had regained their velvet. Only the traces of blood on his shirt and his hands clashed with the calm found.

“You’ll have it tomorrow night …” he said, leaning down, softly kissing her lips, “… when I’ll take you to dinner.”


	5. part 5

 

It made her weird to see him again so quickly the first time. He came back almost every night and sometimes even the day. Bizarre but not frightening. He had hit her but it was just part of the game, the kind of game where everyone gets what they came for.

Never again had he spoken of her husband. She had grasped the message; she was his, only his, so she never asked questions. Anyway she knew very well that she would never see Steven again and she was perfectly comfortable not knowing exactly why. What she did not know could not hurt her.

Reggie made her watch a few times by his men, in the pub where he would let her work. But she had to beg hard for it and be really kind for him to accept. She had never felt so confused. She had never gotten off so much either.

“Reggie, I’d like to go back to work …” she said, biting her lip, her eyes blank. Her face resting on his bare chest, she absently drew small circles from her fingertips on his firm stomach.

A sweet and cynical smile gently stretched the corner of his lips. Juliet did not often ask him anything, but when she did, she always knew how to choose her moment. And above all, she gave him the opportunity to test her docility.

He had already been generous that night. The day had been good for him. His wife had smiled at him when he had left her in the morning, flabbily but no reproach had come out of her mouth so it must have been one of her good days. He had barely met his brother, had not needed to hit anyone out of discontent, business was flourishing at the casino and clubs and his mother was well.

So he had been magnanimous with Juliet. He had invited himself to her house, as usual, but had brought the meal, already cooked, and a bottle of wine. They had barely touched the food but the wine had had its little success and, very quickly, he had dragged her into her room. There he had undressed her, much to Juliet’s surprise, for it was she who usually performed under his pithy and urgent orders.

After laying her down, he had traveled her neck with his mouth, delicately pinching her delicate skin between his full lips. From his tongue he had traced a soft path between her breasts to her navel, his long, soft-skinned fingers brushing the roundness of her chest, wide strong palms molding the curve of her hips. He had looked at her as you detail a beautiful picture, with curiosity and adoration. Then he had tasted her, burying his mouth in her wetness, showing her how these lips could work wonders.

He had not fucked her; he had made love to her. This had aroused new thoughts in her mind. She had imagined how wonderful it must be to be loved by this man. Wonderful and terrifying. Terrifying to feel him slipping through your fingers, caught in the temptations and violence of the street. Miserable to love him to death and wait in vain for him to reserve you the first place in his life. Destructive to belong to him without the reciprocal being ever certain.

_Don’t you dare fall even deeper_ , intimated the healthy part of her brain, resigned to see her deal with the devil. Her only guardrail she ignored with so much force that she barely heard it at times.

“Come on, darling, you don’t have to work, you know you can have anything you want, don’t you?” He had smugly replied with a smile.

“Please ?” she had timidly insisted.

This was the trigger. _You’re so fucked, sweetie._

He bit his lip indecently. “Show me how much you care, baby.”

So she showed him. Not that she cared so much about it. Yes she wanted to go out a little, to see other people, to talk about things and others, innocent, without consequences. She wanted to maintain the illusion that she was not completely impure and perverse.

But this simple request did not deserve to be smothered by the sex of Reggie in her mouth. He had held her head so deeply against his crotch, her mouth full of his turgid member, that she had almost retched. She wiped the tears that flowed from her eyes at the slightest respite he left to breathe, most often when he consented to go back and forth in a more measured way between her lips, slippery from foamy saliva.

This innocent demand did not require that he take her brutally from behind either. She had begged “no, not there Reggie” but those words were more than an invitation to him, it was like honey in his ears. And she knew it, she had knowingly formulated it in the most plaintive and submissive way she could, feasting on their perverted souls. He had groaned with pleasure when he had pressed between her buttocks, barely apart, snatching a sharp scream from her, her tight burning hole contracting convulsively around his cock.

She had deserved his kindness for the good girl she had been. She had shamefully congratulated herself on it. God it was hard not to succumb to Reggie’s hold on her.

* * *

What fascinated her was his aura. He fascinated people around him, always elegant, always polite, always the right words and this devastating charm. No one could have imagined the treasures of evil that hid beneath that impeccable surface.

She thought she knew him better than anyone in the end, but it was not counting with his twin brother. It was a part of him that remained mysterious to her. Reggie always seemed to arrange not to meet him when he took her out. They never went to their own clubs.

Strange, she said to herself, but did not complain too much, their only meetings having not left her a very reassuring memory.

Until that night.

Reggie was taking her to dinner at one of those trendy restaurants he loved so much. But before, he had to go settle a case in one of his clubs, a history of bribes that had gone wrong apparently.

“It won’t be long, don’t move from here, darling.” He had ordered before getting out of the car, leaving her there while the driver slipped away with him inside his establishment.

It was scarcely a few minutes before she saw a man in a wide dark suit come near, hands full of rings, a cigar smoking between his fingers.

During uncomfortable seconds he had looked out the side window, a hand on his forehead against the glass, impassive. He had decided to enter the car only when Juliet had finally looked right in his face.

Ronald Kray had just settled in the back seat with her and she felt her heart lodge between her temples and her stomach stoop.

He stared at her again, dark eyes behind his glasses, pouting worryingly on his face, without saying a word. Empty head and knotted belly, Juliet dared not take her eyes off. He looked so tense, a wild beast ready to leap at the slightest sign of weakness.

“Good evening Juliet.” he finally said with a loud voice, totally inappropriate to the confined space in which they were. “Looks like I finally have the opportunity to introduce myself properly. I am Ronald Kray.”

Hardly holding out a hand in front of him, he followed the slightest of her movements as she squeezed it cautiously, slowly.

“The man who is fucking you is my brother; do you think we are alike?”

What astonished her the most was that his indelicacy sounded like a simple statement. It did not help the tension in her body to calm down, however.

“Not really.” She replied, forcing herself to keep a cool head.

“Mm!” His face finally changed expression in his raised eyebrow; he seemed surprised or suspicious, hard to say.

“I do not like liars, you know, I saw you lying and I did not like that.” His deep voice rolled down his throat and the words slowly came out of his mouth with heavy lips, like so many pronounced sentences.

_Wow, what nerve this one has_ , revolted her inner self. “Would you have preferred me to tell the truth, that I saw you shoot that man in the face?” she asserted with a sharp tone.

She was not lying. If she had not already known, from what she felt about him at that moment, she would never have bet that he and Reggie had the slightest kinship, if not by their physical resemblance. Reggie was intimidating and fascinating because of his charisma, beauty and self-assurance. Ron, he seemed scary, intense and unpredictable. Two faces of the same coin.

He remained impassive, only his mouth distorted in a pout of disgust. “It was for Reggie, Juliet. He thanked you for it, right? Many times I’m sure.”

She began to breathe more noisily, more quickly, the annoyance beginning to take precedence over fear, her heart racing. If he had noticed it, he did not seem to attach any importance to it.

“Reggie and I have been well educated, you know, we’ve learned to be grateful.” He continued, pulling on his cigar with a detached air, making the atmosphere suffocating with his smoke.

He leaned forward suddenly, pointing a finger at her. “You’re right though, we do not really look the same; Reggie likes to own things, things that he thinks are beautiful, and people too. He owns lots of things and lots of people.”

Interrupting to take a whiff of his cigar, Ron stared at her heavily. “I’ve already warned him: owning too much makes people bad, it makes them greedy.” He blurted his voice harsh and full of innuendo. “He was never good at sharing, just like he did not want to share you with your husband, isn’t it? It’s such a shame what happened to him.”

_He knows. He knows what happened._ A shudder of panic sniffed all the muscles of her body and something acid dug a hole inside her throat before reaching her chest.

“Too bad, he looked like an honest man; he really cared about you Juliet.”

“What? What did you say?” To her own surprise, the words had really come out of her mouth. She looked stunned on the surface, but inside, her guts twisted painfully and the voices in her head screamed: _He knows! He wants you to know he knows. He knows everything that happened. He spoke to him._

Lost in her own thoughts while Ron was coldly detailing her and smoking his cigar, none of them noticed the man approaching and suddenly opening the door behind the disturbing twin.

“What are you doing, Ron?” It was Reggie. He glared at his brother as the latter nonchalantly leaned his head back, giving him an innocent look out of the corner of his eye.

“Reggie! Were you inside, brother?” “Yes, I was,” he sighed excitedly, shaking his head. “We have to go now, do you mind?”

“Why do you never bring her when you come to see me? Huh? We should do something with Frances one evening. You know Frances, his wife?” Ron asked, turning to Juliet who was watching their exchange with concern.

“Ron.” Reggie intervened, barely raising his voice.

He had put his hands in his pockets and ducked his head to his brother with a vaguely disapproving pout on his face. Juliet could yet guess the anger that emanated from him at his straight posture, his elbows apart from his body, his jaw clenched. But he did not go forward, did not try to pull his brother out of the car. He was containing himself. Juliet had never seen him act so passively with someone, be so patient. Nobody would have dared to stand up to Reggie Kray, let alone so casually.

There were a lot of things that Reggie controlled in his life but Ron was obviously not part of it. Their relationship was likely special.

The twins glared at each other for a few seconds, and then Ron nodded and for the first time sent a sketch of a smile to Juliet.

“Juliet, it was a pleasure. Have a delightful evening with my brother here.” He said before leaving the car.

It did not breathe sincerity for her. She decreed dislike under his falsely polite air. It was only a facade to not upset his brother more and he seemed to not care a damn about being convincing.

_He spoke to Steven. He told him._

“Well, let’s go.” Reggie prompted his driver before taking the place previously occupied by Ron. In a throat clearing, he adjusted his jacket and smoothed his tie on his immaculate shirt, putting up his flawless facade with his soft voice and irresistible eyebrow fold. “Excuse my brother, he speaks without thinking sometimes, he did not bother you too much, did he?”

_Reggie’s brother told your fucking husband where to find you._

Her face, frozen in a tormented expression, gradually turned into a forced smile. “No. Everything is fine.” She lied.


	6. Chapter 6

"It was your brother who told my husband where I was." spat Juliet, the door of her house had barely slammed behind her.

The evening had been charming and amusing, at least if one believed the attitude of Reggie who had flopped from table to table, greeting and arguing with his admirers. God, how beautiful and powerful he looked.

She too smiled and greeted politely, but in her head, her fascination for this man could not silence the voices, she was constantly rehearsing Ron's words. Reggie had tried to silence him, but his brother had reached his end, he had said enough to sow disorder in her head.

_He could have killed you._ Ron had no idea why Juliet had left her husband; she could have been in danger with Steven.

_Why did he do that?_ It was the question that tanned her the longest. She had not crossed Ron's road since the identification at the police station. But that's when she started dating Reggie.

"What are you talking about?" Reggie had replied, turning around, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

His jaded and falsely nonchalant tone was a poor hiding of the sudden tension in his face that this simple sentence of Juliet had caused. And as he struggled to hold her gaze in an unusually prolonged way, she had an intuition.

Since the day the Kray brothers entered her life, these two seemed to play a particular game, constantly avoiding each other in her presence. But their swift exchange made her think that it was not some kind of hostility that was the cause. It was protection.

"You knew it?" she asked, initially incredulous. But when Reggie then gave her a smile, raised eyebrows and angelic air in support, as if he did not see the problem, she got angry. "You knew it, and you did nothing?"

The charming smile vanished at once and Reggie shrugged, shaking his head slightly with an angry look. How dare she speak to him in that accusing tone?

"What do you mean _nothing_?" he began, planting himself authoritatively in front of her, his face overhanging hers. "Have I done _nothing_ when your husband showed up?" he hissed between his clenched teeth.

Juliet did not back off.

"Did you tell him to your brother that because of him you killed a man?" she poured him coldly in the face.

_Touché._

A glimmer of light shot through his eyes as he grabbed Juliet's neck. Her breathing cut off and her body stiffened with surprise. She could not swallow and let out a groan of embarrassment. She had the feeling that her neck was only a twig between his fingers, if he squeezed a little more it would break.

"I don't remember having heard you protest when you saw me go, honey. I should have let him beat you, you little ungrateful bitch."

His warm breath and scathing tone were the last things she could have remembered. The rest was only pain and shouting. Her screams. He had not needed any encouragement this time when he threw her on the ground, banged her head against the floor and tore her clothes apart.

All the charm and beauty that made him the man who intimidated her was gone. He was only rage and savagery when he dragged her into the other room and raped her on the floor. To believe that the hands that tried to push his body, so heavy on her, and the screams of protest only fueled his excitement, he had lost control.

The game was over. She did not play anymore. She did not want anymore, not even a little, to be Reggie's toy. But he did not care; he liked to have pretty things.

Then he squeezed and hugged that pretty neck in his fingers as he forced into her. The cries that fell silent and the breathing that cut inside her throat did not alarm him, it was too good and she was so tight.

While her eyes were injecting blood and the lack of oxygen making her dizzy, her life ran like a ribbon in her mind. It looked like a succession of bad decisions, inevitable and unfortunate. All those times when she had not taken her life in hand, had not deigned to free herself from the grip of these men or, on the contrary, had not embraced her impulses, left her with a bitter taste. A lifetime spent fighting against herself to leave nothing behind it but failures.

_Shit ... that's all I did?_

_Regrets, darling? Really !? Come on ... you knew it would end like this. You could not have dreamed better than to have you fucked to death by the worst bastard you've ever met. Well done girl!_

She laughed internally at the irony of her story. She and Reggie had so much in common, twisted minds and insane thoughts, and that was what was causing her loss. It is true that she knew it.

His beautiful face imprinted in her retinas, his body in hers, everything was in its place in the end. Then the sounds went quiet at her ears and the images darkened one last time.

It was too late when he noticed that she was not struggling anymore. Deceived by the weakening heat still emanating from her body, only her empty gaze made him understand what he had done.

He swore, shook her, called her name and swore again louder when her limbs fell heavily to the ground. But panicking was not the style of Reggie Kray.

He regained his senses and pushed back the flow of bile back into his throat. If there was an ounce of guilt and sadness that still lingered in his mind, they were soon overshadowed by the control that characterized him. Reggie managed the situation, resulting in the disappearance of Juliet, her husband, her story, and everything that linked them to him.

Life would resume and everything would be as before. He would have other pretty things again. Of that he was convinced.

But sometimes life has other plans.

 


End file.
